The Return of the Deckhand
by FreshlySqueezedConfessions
Summary: Thrust into a now desolate Enchanted Forest, Emma takes refuge in Rumpelstiltskin's castle and takes up a destructive pastime. As her loved ones search tirelessly for her, an ogre attacks and they get separated. A recent clothing preference makes Emma especially glad that its her beloved pirate she runs into, alone in the woods. **Set after season 4 finale**
1. Chapter 1 (Prologue)

**Hello readers,**

 **This is my very first fan-fiction ever, so any reviews/comments would be much appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome as well, but please don't send hate. If you don't like the story you're more than welcome to stop reading it. Please bear with me through a bit of angst and Charming family feels before the real fun starts. The overall rating for this story is still undecided, but I'm setting it as Teen for now. I will do my best to update regularly. I'm excited to see how this turns out :)**

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The night the darkness claimed her was the worst night of her life. But it wasn't because of the sickening, twisting in her gut or the feeling of heaviness as evil seeped its way into her now blackening heart. It was because of all that she'd been forced to leave behind. Her family, her friends…Killian. The man who had become such a crucial part of her family somewhere along the way. The charming, handsome, thoughtful, brave and infuriating man she'd only just voiced her true feelings for.

Emma knows that technically she wasn't forced to leave them, that she could have chosen to stay, to let the darkness take Regina instead, but she'd be damned if she let that happen again, especially after all Regina had done to redeem herself. And Emma supposes she is. Damned that is. Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, meaning hell bound, but damned to live out her own personal hell as every day the darkness and despair threaten to overtake her completely. The only thing keeping her sane is the thought of her loved ones coming for her. But it isn't a question of whether or not they'll come, it's a question of whether or not they'll find her. She knows it seems silly, but Emma takes comfort in what she now considers their family mantra; that they will always find each other.

Her biggest concern however, isn't even if they'll be able to find her, it's whether or not they'll be able to save her if they do. Emma has never been the most trusting person, and putting her trust and faith in other people doesn't happen often, so she was surprised by how hopeful she'd been that they'd save her when she first held up the dagger and let the swirling blackness surround her.

She thinks back on her trip to the Enchanted Forest and through time with Killian, when she'd been taken prisoner by the Evil Queen, and how she'd managed to break herself out only to run face to face with him. She remembers his genuine surprise and happiness as he said her name, slightly breathless. She also remembers his disappointment at being deprived a dashing rescue, as he'd put it. Not to mention how his very well fitted suit was doing things to her she was trying very hard to ignore. But then there was what she'd said to him; "the only one who saves me is me." Emma had come so far in entrusting them to save her—"you figured out how to take the darkness out of me once, you need to do it again, as heroes"—only to have her hope be slowly snuffed out. She clings to it tightly, every day, but the darkness has a way of making all her fears and doubts come to the surface and fester like an open wound.

She realizes now that this is what it does, it tears you apart, exposes all of your insecurities and weaknesses. It leaves you drowning in despair while bringing the worst memories that were locked away to the forefront of your mind. Emma understands now how this entire "Dark One" thing works. Before you truly become the Dark One, the seething, overpowering evil breaks you, all the while filling you with hatred and contempt. And that's when it actually happens, after feeling powerless within your own mind, you reach for its power and grip it tightly, so as to never feel powerless again. And then, rather than hating the darkness, you embrace it and you hate all those who've wronged you in any way, big or small. And even with so much power already, you seek more and more and more.

Emma now sees Rumpelstiltskin in a whole new light, and despite all the terrible things he's done, she feels a deep sympathy for what he must have gone through. She isn't excusing him for his actions, for it was he who sought out the Dark One's power in the first place, but she thinks she now understands him a little better than before. Despite the Dark One's curse, Mr. Gold had his good days, and he still cared deeply about certain people. She saw it with Neal, Belle and even Henry.

Emma knows that if she does truly become the Dark One, she'll still love Henry, her parents and Killian—as much as the Dark One can love anyone—but it won't be the same. Mr. Gold lied to Belle, again and again, and when met with the choice to simply be with her or to continue on his path for power…well, he didn't choose. He thought he could have both. Imagining herself become this twisted and greedy, willing to lie over and over to her loved ones sickens her, and she takes that as a very good sign, it means she's still herself, despite how broken she may feel.

She has to be strong for them, she knows this, and so she tries to picture her mother's voice in her mind, telling her to never give up hope. She imagines Henry's proud smile as he tells her that she's the Saviour and that she has to believe in herself. She then thinks of her father and how he would go to any lengths to protect his family. His warm smile and, at times, his overprotective nature, especially when a certain pirate captain comes knocking. She imagines some sarcastic, slightly passive aggressive comment from Regina, telling her to smarten up and get herself together. And then of course she imagines her beloved pirate. His comforting embrace and soothing voice, his uncanny ability to say just the right thing to lift her spirits. His intense blue eyes that carry so much emotion all on their own. His beautifully ruffled, scruffy dark hair. And his smile, oh God, his smile.

Then she remembers her last few moments with him. He wasn't smiling then. In fact he'd looked completely and utterly devastated. Perhaps telling him she loved him right before being separated wasn't the smartest course of action. Killian hadn't even had the chance to respond. Emma hates herself for not telling him sooner. She'd had the perfect opportunity to do so back at the Loft, after they'd toppled onto the bed together and she wonders if she would have even said the words at all if they hadn't wound up being torn apart yet again. She'd like to think she would have, but she can't know for sure. And so, Emma vows that if she sees Killian again, no, when she sees Killian again, she isn't going to hold anything back from him.

She'll tell him how he makes her feel, how much she loves him and this time he'll have a chance to reply. She'll even tell him some of the more…embarrassing thoughts that come to mind whenever he's around…within reason of course. So when he smiles again, she'll tell him just how much she missed that smile…and those lips.

She will survive this ordeal for Killian, and a chance to see him smile again, for her son and her parents. For Regina and their tentative, forming friendship. And Lily, who she has only recently been reacquainted with. And all the residents of Storybrooke who have become like an extension of her family. She still has some fight left in her yet, and there are still people who need saving, herself included, and she is the Saviour after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Killian twists and turns under the bed covers, his thoughts refusing to stray from his last painful moments with Emma for more than a few seconds at a time. He felt so useless, standing there, watching as the darkness took her, his eyes never leaving hers until she'd disappeared completely. He'd been pleading with her to stay, when she'd finally said the three words that in any other circumstance would have filled his heart with joy. Instead, they confirmed her intentions of leaving, and filled his heart with dread. Killian knew better than to try to stop her after that. She's a bloody stubborn woman and heaven knows it's just one of the many reasons he'd first been drawn to her.

He'd be lying if he said a small part of him didn't rejoice at her words. Killian had known how she felt—or was at least 98% sure of her feelings for him—for quite some time, but hearing the words spoken out loud was another thing entirely. He just wishes the moment hadn't been tainted by their impending separation and the knowledge of what Emma was about to do.

She'd come close to telling him upon their return to Storybrooke, after she had "accidentally" steered their embrace—and the back of Killian's knees—towards the edge of her bed. Emma's pleased giggle, and that gleeful look in her eyes were enough to tell him that their little tumble was anything but accidental. The minx. If only she had said the words then, during one of their much enjoyed quiet moments. He could have responded in kind and perhaps they could have shared a kiss or two…or twenty.

It hurts to think of all she must be going through as he lies here on the couch in the Charming's living room. Snow had graciously offered to let him stay with them so he didn't have to be alone. He knew if he'd gone back to the Jolly Roger, his night would've ended with him passed out drunk. The last thing he needed was a killer hangover as they discussed their plan to save Emma. He needed to be focused, so he accepted her offer.

As Emma had disappeared into the night, the dagger clattered to the ground, her name now inscribed upon it and a painful reminder of what she had undoubtedly become. However, there was a part of Killian that wasn't quite convinced that even the immense power of the Dark One could overtake Emma. Not without a fight. If there were ever to be a worthy opponent for the Dark One, would it not be the Saviour? He'd seen her light magic in action, but that isn't the only thing that makes Emma strong. Her willpower and determination alone are forces to be reckoned with. Those were traits he'd recognized in her right away, and knew they both shared.

Killian runs his fingers through his already tussled, unkempt hair and sighs. There's still moonlight shining through a nearby window so he decides it's either still very late, or very early in the morning. He knows his restlessness will not cease if he doesn't find a way to clear his mind. He needs rest if he's going to be of any use tomorrow. Perhaps his previous idea of drinking copious amounts of rum wasn't such a bad idea after all. He's certain functioning with a hangover (albeit a mighty bad one) is better than running off absolutely no sleep at all.

When they'd first arrived back at the Loft, Snow told him he was more than welcome to sleep in Emma's bed since it's much comfier than the couch. He had tried. He thought that being surrounded by her belongings and her scent would be comforting—and perhaps in time it would—but tonight it only served as a reminder of her absence.

Killian stills as he hears footsteps approaching. "Killian?" Henry asks quietly as he comes to stand in front of the couch, looking weary. Killian sits up and makes room for their—er—Emma's son. He sits down and brings his knees up to his chest, curling in on himself.

"I gather you've been having trouble sleeping as well." Killian says it like a statement rather than a question, but Henry still responds will a small nod.

They sit in silence for a few moments. "She's all alone," Henry blurts out. "So much of her life has been spent alone, and now that she finally has you and me and grandpa and grandma, her family," Killian's heart leaps in his chest at the mention of being a part of their family, "…my mom still wound up alone."

Despite his own sorrow, Killian tries to stow it away for later so he can comfort Henry. He can't bear the thought of Henry—clever, hopeful, brave Henry—feeling just as lost and useless as he does.

Emma left Henry in his and the Charming's charge, and he will do everything it takes to keep his spirits up. If Henry of all people loses hope…it will never come to that, he vows.

"Henry," he begins, "I hope that as your friend and your, uh, sailing instructor—"You can say dad you know," Henry cuts in with a small, secret smile. "The only reason I didn't start calling you dad sooner was because I didn't want to make my mom uncomfortable."

Killian is at a loss for words, something only Swan has been able to accomplish up until now. But considering Henry is her son, her flesh and blood, it doesn't surprise him.

"I'll probably start calling Robin dad too, now that he and my mom are back together," he continues. He doesn't need to specify which mom he's referring to, since they both know he's talking about Regina.

Killian finally finds the will to speak, his heart warming as he says, "I would like nothing more than to call myself your father, and you my son."

The two of them grin at each other before Henry says, "Good because I know that it wouldn't bother my mom anymore. She loves you a lot you know, it just took her a long time to admit it." Killian shifts on the couch and pulls the blanket up and around them both to shield them from the cool breeze coming through the nearby window.

"You sound rather sure of yourself…son," Killian adds, trying out the word.

"I am, you wouldn't believe how long it took my mom to believe me about the curse. I had to eat a poisoned apple turnover to make her believe! And even after she broke the curse, I could tell she was still having a hard time admitting it to herself."

Despite having already heard the tale before, he'd yet to hear Henry's version.

"Aye, that certainly sounds like Swan." Killian says fondly. Henry hums in agreement and silence falls between them once again.

Killian almost forgot he'd been about to comfort Henry, before their conversation had taken a very different turn. He feels much better now, no doubt thanks to Henry's company, and he can tell the lad does too. However, he doesn't want to leave Henry with any undiscussed concerns. He clears his throat.

"As I was saying before, I hope that as your father—or one of them at least—you'll believe me when I say there is a difference between being alone and feeling alone. Before you found your mother in New York she didn't know you knew about her, or that she had parents that did absolutely everything they could to save her from the curse. She thought she'd been abandoned, but she'd actually been saved, even if it didn't feel like it as first. Before she met you and your grandparents, she truly felt alone. But now that she has a family, a son she loves…now that she knows us and knows that we are always thinking about her and will do everything to save her…well, I don't think she truly feels alone anymore—at least not completely—even if she is alone, wherever she may be."

Killian surprises himself with his little speech and knows it was as much for his sake as it was for Henry's. He can only hope it holds some truth.

He then feels the need to add, "And if you're concerned about us finding her, you needn't worry, that is what your family is known for, is it not? Finding each other?" Henry had been listening intently as Killian spoke and he was no longer curled up with his knees tucked to himself. He'd stretched out his legs and was now sitting more comfortably.

He made sure to meet Kilian's eyes in the darkness, before he said confidently, "Our family. But yeah, you're right."

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 **All the Captain Cobra feels.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

As Killian and Henry spoke, they had no idea two extra sets of ears had been listening. Not on purpose of course, but because both Charming and Snow were having trouble sleeping too. Not to mention their "wall" is actually nothing but a curtain.

When Henry had first come down into the living room/kitchen/main room, Snow thought he would seek out their company. Instead he sought out Hook. She wasn't jealous so much as she was surprised. She knew they'd been spending time together, but it only just dawned on her, as the two of them spoke, how close they'd both become. They'd spoken in hushed tones so as not to wake Neal or her and David.

She watched her husband's face as he listened to them, a sort of puzzled fascination taking over his features, morphing into eventual acceptance. They'd both wordlessly agreed to stay silent, to avoid interrupting the important moment.

This is now the second time her and Charming have unintentionally eavesdropped on Killian. She knows she should feel a little guilty, but instead she's glad because after hearing such genuine love from Killian directed at both her daughter and grandson, she no longer doubts his intentions. Not even a little. If Hook's "cowardly" self dying for Emma and Henry wasn't proof enough of his feelings for them, overhearing this quiet conversation confirms them, one hundred percent.

She hears them say goodnight before Henry shuffles back to his room and Killian settles back onto the couch. He now lies there, quiet and still, as opposed to the constant twisting and turning he was doing before.

Mary Margaret meets David's eyes, and they both smile as she slides closer to him. Everything suddenly feels bearable. As she gives in to her drooping eyelids and closes her eyes, she knows they'll all get through this. As a family.

~~~CS~~~

3 MONTHS LATER

Emma slowly opens her eyes as the early morning sun shines over her face, filling the lavish room with light and warmth. _Damn, I forgot to close the curtains again,_ Emma chides herself, all hope of sleeping in fading quickly. And she'd been having such a lovely dream too. It involved Killian, so naturally it was lovely, but this time it was his cursed self, fumbling and adorable. She's already forgotten the particulars of the dream, but she does remember his nervous chuckle and dopey smile.

For Emma, dreaming has become her ultimate distraction over the past few months. That, and disposing of some of the more dangerous items within Rumpelstiltskin's vault. It keeps her busy, and it keeps her from thinking about the darkness lurking in the recesses of her mind. And when she wasn't doing either of those things, she was working on a way to get back to her family. It seems absurd that of all the items left in his vault, not one of them is capable of either sending her, or sending a message between realms.

Rumpelstiltskin had kept a very organized, and extensive account of his possessions within a large volume she found in his room. It even included detailed descriptions of how to destroy each object if necessary. Any protection that had been put in place to keep people out of the vault seemed to have disappeared after Emma became the Dark One. Well, the _potential_ Dark One at least. She decided that rather than simply putting the protection spell back in place, she would also dispose of as many of the items as she could.

Some of them required nothing more than a good stomp on under her boots, while others had to be soaked in a specific lake or creek for a few minutes before being melted over a low, simmering flame. Some of the directions were in fact so detailed that it took Emma a few tries before she got them just right.

When Emma first arrived in what's left of the Enchanted Forest, she was a mess. The night had been lit by nothing more than a small, sliver of moon, and even that light was mostly snuffed out by the trees. She'd stumbled through the forest as her mind battled for control. She did that for what felt like months but was probably a week or two at most. She fought back against the darkness as thoughts of her loved one's spurred her on. Then finally, one day she came upon Rumpelstiltskin's castle and hope sparked within her. She knew the vault contained thousands of objects and perhaps even the means to return to her family. But she was wrong, and if Rumpelstiltskin did have any such objects, they were not mentioned in his record book.

Still, she always keeps her eyes open for magic hats or magic beans every time she walks through the castle. Emma knew a trip to Lake Nostos would be of no use if she had no magical objects capable of creating a portal that needed to be restored. And so she kept up her daily routine of destroying the contents of the vault, noticing how much more bearable the darkness became when she was occupied with other things.

Most objects from the vault contain dark magic and all manner of curses or hexes. Some have to be handled very carefully or one touch of her skin could trigger them, much like the one she planned to get started on today.

Emma rolled out of bed, yawning as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. She'd chosen to sleep in one of the many unused bedrooms in the castle, steering clear of Rumpelstiltskin and Belle's rooms. Despite Rumpelstiltskin's lack of visitors, the bedrooms were still fully equipped with large, comfortable, four-poster beds, fancy, antique looking wardrobes and vanities, and huge windows hugged by lavish, dark red drapes. The wardrobes were even stocked to the brim with both regal, impractical dresses, as well as those Emma prefers—the simple ones that wouldn't prove a burden during her work.

They also had a collection of men's clothing: dressy suits and simple pants and button ups. Even the kitchen was stocked with a variety of non-perishable foods like dried, smoked meats and canned fruit. She couldn't have chosen a better place to stay.

In the months spent traipsing through the woods and fields within no more than a 3-day walking distance from the castle, doing what needs to be done to destroy the dangerous items, Emma has yet to run into another human being. She doesn't blame any of the people who weren't transported back to Storybrooke after the year that no one remembered—and then did—for fleeing this Kingdom…given its history with powerful curses.

The lack of human presence has made Emma feel…more free. She usually sleeps naked and she no longer uses the bra she arrived with, let alone one of those terribly uncomfortable looking undergarments she's seen in the wardrobe. She's also yet to see a troll, and ogre or a fairy. It seems they too have moved on to more populated areas. It saddens her to see her parents' once prosperous, lively Kingdom turned into nothing more than a desolate ghost town—er, Kingdom. But then again, she really likes not wearing a bra. She'll wear it if she knows she needs to do something more strenuous than walking, but otherwise, it stays off.

Emma heads towards the solid oak wardrobe and swings open the doors. She pulls out a white, satin blouse and dark, cotton pants. As the pants were meant for a younger man by the looks of them, they stretch to hug her feminine curves. The blouse is loose fitting with a deep V-neck. She does up the few buttons, but even so, the neckline dips down to show the expanse of skin between her breasts.

After she's finished changing, she heads to the kitchen to pack enough provisions for her journey. When she's ready to go, she tugs on her black leather gloves and grabs the cursed metal figurine in the shape of a rabbit. It makes her uncomfortable to think that such a simple, innocent looking item carries such a sinister ability.

A few hours later, as Emma treks through the forest, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and birds chirping is joined by another, very quiet sound. Footsteps. Footsteps other than her own. They seem to coming from her right. She ducks behind a wide-trunked tree and waits. There's almost something familiar about the footfalls she's hearing now. A grace to the quick, light way the feet touch the ground, making much less noise than she was, just before. She holds her breath as the footsteps approach, gripping the metal bunny figurine she'd been fiddling with, moments before, tightly in her hand. She risks a look from out behind the tree and does a double take.

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 **As I'm sure you've already noticed, I'm not going in the typical direction in terms of Emma becoming the Dark One. Don't get me wrong, I love the thought of Dark Emma, but for this particular story I wanted to do things a little differently. :)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

About twenty feet from her stands Killian, donned in his pirate attire once again, a sword slung over his shoulder and a sheen of sweat covering his handsome features. His hair looks as unruly and unkempt as ever, and while the circles under his eyes make him look drained and exhausted, he now stands straight backed and alert.

His blue eyes are glued to her green ones and his mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words leave his lips. It looks like he's seen a ghost, or he can't quite believe his eyes—or both. Emma's pretty sure her face mirrors his; eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, trying to form the shape to whisper his name.

Finally, Killian makes the first move and takes a few steps towards her so they now stand about ten feet apart. Emma's having a hard time believing that he's actually here, not that she didn't believe that he'd find her, but just happening upon him in the forest like this seems so unlikely.

SNAP OUT OF IT EMMA, she screams in her head and before she can say anything she sneezes.

It's loud and sudden and echoes through the forest. Killian jumps a little and she can't help but laugh at his startled expression. He stares at her for a few moments more and then grins. That smile she's been dreaming about for so long, so much brighter in person. The smile she vowed she'd see again.

She's about to comment on it when she notices his eyes slide from her face to her white silk blouse. Her face warms as she remembers it's not exactly suitable for most company. Killian's company however…well, she doesn't exactly regret wearing it. Or the tight, form fitting pants for that matter.

The sun is still shining brightly through the trees and she knows he can see her bare breasts through the thin material. She shivers slightly at the thought. Killian's gaze lingers on her blouse before sliding downwards where her strong thighs and hips are on full display, covered only by the thin, stretched cotton material.

Emma gulps and almost feels like turning around for a moment so he can see what the pants look like from the back. Her face seems to have reddened even further, if that's even possible and she knows at this point she must look like a blushing virgin. She certainly isn't dressed like one though.

When Killian's eyes finally travel back up her form to her face, he smirks, the desire in his eyes unmistakable.

"You look stunning, Swan." It's the same thing he said to her on their first date and he knows it. However, this time the circumstances are much different. While he still says it with awe in his voice, there's also a hunger, his voice low and husky and his eyes blazing with heat. Emma's face feels so hot now she has to hold back the urge to fan herself.

Another difference is that before he'd said it in front of her parents and Elsa, now they were all alone. Alone in the woods…wait what? Alone? Where was everyone else? Did he come alone? Or did they get separated?

This breaks Emma from her desire filled haze and Killian seems to notice. He blinks and shakes his head a few times before Emma speaks.

"My parents, did they come with you? What about Henry?"

Killian looks at his feet before saying, "your father, Robin and our—um, Henry came too."

He shifts on his feet and scratches behind his ear before continuing. "We were separated." He holds up his hand before Emma can respond. "Not to worry love, I saw Henry run off with Robin and your father when the ogre attacked."

And here she'd been thinking they'd all left, she didn't know how well she'd fare against an ogre, even with her magic, since she hadn't been using much of it lately. She knows there's something else he not saying, for fear of how she'll react.

"How come you didn't run with them?" She's pretty sure she already knows the answer. He meets her eyes again and smiles sadly, uncertain how she's going to react to what he says next. "Well Swan, someone had to act as bait as the rest of them escaped." He watches her face carefully, reading the emotions as they appear, one by one. Concern, anger, admiration, more concern.

Emma can't help but think back to their time atop the bean stock, when Hook volunteered as bait, to lure out the giant, Anton. How worried she's been after Anton toppled to the ground, possibly on top of Killian, and how Hook's safety was already so important to her, despite how impartial she tried to act.

"You brave, stupid pirate," she breathes out and it sounds more complimentary than scolding. She walks closer to him, inspecting him for injuries. He looks absolutely fine, save for the tired circles under his eyes.

"I've no injuries love. I may have pulled a few muscles and I'm bloody exhausted, but I'm all right."

She sighs in relief and then asks teasingly, "So how'd you manage to best the ogre without any of that handy knock out powder?" Hook's eyes light up at her teasing tone and the mention of their early interactions atop the bean stock.

"I yelled and taunted it, much as I did to poor Anton, and it chased me through the forest for a time. They are huge, hulking beasts and that's precisely what makes their movements awkward and clumsy. I lead it to a fallen log, leaning slightly off the ground between two trees, and while I managed to duck and roll underneath to the other side, the beast did not. It tripped and you can imagine what happened from there," he said, motioning to his sword.

"You stabbed him with your sword and he felt it?" Emma asks mischievously. Killian laughs. "Yes Swan, precisely."

If he's slightly taken aback by Emma's new found, carefree flirting and teasing, he doesn't comment on it. She simply doesn't see the need to hold anything back from him anymore and being back together again after all this time is making her feel incredibly light, despite that fact that she knows they probably still have much to do in terms of finding the others and a way back home.

"I was on my way back to meet up with the rest of the group when I found you, Emma."

They smile at each other and then close the rest of the distance between them. She still has so many questions and she knows he probably does too, but they can wait.

She honestly doesn't know how they've kept from pouncing on each other for so long, but now she just wants to hug him tightly and kiss him senseless, and tell him everyth—"Wait Killian don't touch that!"

She realizes too late that he'd been reaching for her left hand to pull her closer with his right. The hand that still held the damned rabbit figurine she'd nearly forgotten about. As his bare skin touches metal, his expression turns blank and he falls to the ground.

* * *

 **Poor, sweet Killy just can't catch a break.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**I just wanted to thank you guys for the reviews/follows/favourites :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm already working on the next.**

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Emma stares in horror as Killian's limp body hits the solid ground. The image of that very same thing happening three months ago flashes through her mind, making her feel sick. Then, his death had been temporary—although she hadn't known that for sure at the time—but now…if he dies now there's no coming back.

"Goddamnit Emma, he's not dead," she says out loud, trying to calm her racing heart and slow her fast, shallow breathing.

She hears the fear in her voice and tries desperately to block out the image of his cursed self, swaying slightly before landing lightly on the cobblestones, arm outstretched and eyes closed—so graceful even in death.

She recalls Rumpelstiltskin's description of the curse, written in a very regal looking cursive: _This particular curse is unique. It can be just as harmless as it can be harmful. Upon contact with a person's skin, it will return them to their most recent cursed state. If said person has never been cursed, it will go to waste—as it can only be used once—which is why it must be used wisely, to reach its full potential…Unfortunately it will only affect the first individual it touches, even if said individual's last curse affected more than him or herself._

Nowhere in Rumpelstiltskin's maniacal description did it mention how it takes effect, so either he didn't know or simply failed to mention it and she's overreacting…or Killian suffered another curse between their separation three months ago and today…

Emma stands there, eyes wide, frozen in place for a few beats longer before tossing the rabbit figurine into some nearby shrubs and throwing herself to the ground and kneeling before Killian's limp body. The wind rushing through the trees makes it difficult for her hand to pick up on his slow breathing, but after a few moments of panic she notices the very slight rise and fall of his chest. Just to be safe, she checks his pulse and she feels her eyes water, tears of joy and relief sliding down her cheeks.

She stays there, kneeled on the solid ground for a time, watching Hook's face as he sleeps peacefully. Then she sees his eyebrows and nose twitch and decides he's either dreaming or about to wake up. She scoots closer, her long blond hair brushing his face as she reaches for his right hand and entwines their fingers together.

Then his eyes slowly open and he blinks a few times, adjusting to the light. It doesn't take long before he notices the soft hand holding his and his eyes flicker up to her face. As they widen slightly, there's no recognition in his gaze, only awe. She stares back at him and smiles brightly, noticing when his gaze falls to her lips, lingering there before he blushes, shifting his gaze lower at which point his blush deepens. No doubt as he discovers what he had only a few minutes ago, for the second time.

 _Hah, who's the blushing virgin now?_ Actually, she realizes, he might be. Well, he might _think_ he is. The thought causes her to laugh, breaking the silence with gleeful giggles as her previous worries leave her. Everything is fine. The pirate boyfriend situation if fine. He's cursed but he's alive and well and besides, she knows full well she can deal with this version of Killian, all nerves now, but full of potential.

Killian's eyes light up as she laughs, as if he's hearing the most enchanting melody. But then he seems to remember something and his expression shifts as he looks up at the sky from on his back, through the blanket of trees and sighs sadly.

"What is it Killian?" Emma asks, squeezing his hand gently.

He doesn't act surprised that she knows his name, he merely sighs and sits up, his face now becoming level with hers.

He doesn't release her hand, he just stares at it as he says, "For a moment I thought this was real, that I'd somehow managed to find myself in the company of the most beautiful lass I've ever seen, but then I remembered I'm the lowly deckhand of the feared Captain Blackbeard, and at any moment he'll be kicking me awake…I don't even know your name, but the thought of never seeing you again…" he trails off, still staring down at their joined hands.

This moping will not do, not after she just got him back. She pulls him to his feet and steps into his personal space, as he had often done to her. She brings her free hand up to his face, sliding it gently across his stubble, waiting patiently for him to meet her eyes. When he does, she smiles and tells him her name is Emma. Emma Swan.

"Emma," he whispers reverently, like if he says her name too loudly she might disappear. "Swan," he says in much the same way, tasting it out on his lips.

She opts for telling him the truth, at least the very vague truth, because even like this, she knows he can read her. The whole story can wait until he's fed and well rested because those damned circles under his eyes aren't getting any smaller.

Her free hand moves from his cheek to his chest, just above his heart. A habit she'd picked up after nearly seeing his heart crushed before her eyes.

"You're not dreaming," she begins, never breaking eye contact, willing him to recognize the truth in her words.

"You were…in an accident and you lost your memory. Your memory of me and um, how you came to be here in the first place. You don't have to worry about Blackbeard anymore. I know how this must sound but I just need you to believe me…and believe _in_ me when I say I will get your memories back so everything can make sense again."

He doesn't reply right away, just stares at Emma as she fiddles with his vest.

"I do believe in you," he finally admits, sounding surprised. "I don't know why, but I do."

Emma's answering smile is as bright as the sun as she flings herself into his arms. Even cursed, Killian's faith in her is unwavering. He makes a little startled "oof" sound as she crashes into him and stands still for a few seconds, unsure how to respond, his nervousness returning in full force. Tentatively, he wraps his arms around her as well and she sighs in contentment, burrowing her face in his neck.

They stay like that for a time, Killian thankful that Emma's current position doesn't allow her a look at his reddened cheeks. Neither one of them makes any move to break from their embrace until Emma notices Killian sway slightly, some of his weight being distributed to her. She reluctantly pulls back, taking in his heavy eyes and shy smile.

"C'mon, let's get you back to my place."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank-you all for the kind comments and follows/favourites. Here's another chapter, its a bit longer this time. I do apologize for the wait, I've been busy at work and when I'm not at work I've been trying to spend more time outside doing fun out-doors-y summer stuff. I hope you guys have been enjoying the wonderful OUAT behind the scenes pics and all the awesomeness that was Comic Con 2015!**

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"This is your place?" Killian asks, clearly impressed.

They'd just come through the last cluster of trees and he was practically tripping over his feet from exhaustion. She'd decided about halfway through their walk back to free him of his heavy leather coat. She wore it now, and while she was anything but a delicate flower, it weighed on her heavily and she couldn't wait to take it off. Not that she minded the admiring looks Killian kept throwing her way. Every time she caught him looking he'd blush furiously and look away, suddenly interested in the grass or wildflowers littering the ground.

Through all of this they still held hands, neither one of them willing to break physical contact completely. She knows he'd noticed the hook attached to his left arm by the way he glanced at it warily, but he never mentioned it, maybe deciding he'd rather not know.

"Well I guess you could say I kind of inherited it," Emma replies, wondering idly why Regina hadn't come along on this rescue mission, especially since Henry had. And then there was her mother, if she had to guess she'd say she stayed to take care of Neal. She refused to be jealous of her baby brother, but she'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt that Snow hadn't come along to help her first child…One of the many things she hadn't been able to ask Killian before he was cursed.

She also didn't have time to ask where exactly he had been heading before they ran into each other. If she wants answers she needs to break the curse. And to break the curse she needs to…They need to share true loves kiss. There may be other ways, but it's the only one she knows and seems simple enough.

Emma knows without a doubt that she loves Killian, cursed or otherwise. Now she just needs his cursed self to fall in love with her.

As they approach the main doors, their shoulders brush together and he tilts his head towards her, smiling timidly. Emma has a feeling he's already well on his way in that regard. If Henry was here he'd insist on a code name for her plan. She thinks for a moment… _How about Operation…Seduce Killian?_ She likes the sound of that. She needs to seduce his heart, but seducing him in the usual sense isn't an entirely unpleasant thought. In fact it's a very, very pleasant thought.

They'd both been seducing each other pretty hard back in the woods before Killian had been cursed, and she wonders what would have happened if she'd have just kept that stupid metal bunny in her bag.

They arrive at the castle and she ushers him in through the entrance hall and into the kitchen, before setting him down at a small wooden table, set between two barrels of wine. This must've been where Belle used to eat, not in the extravagant dining hall, but tucked away in the crowded kitchen.

"There isn't much in terms of fresh food but I think you'll appreciate these canned plums more than that dry meat and those stale crackers we ate on the way here." Emma removes his coat, sighing in contentment and rolling out her shoulders. She then grabs two bowls, filling them with the sweet, purple plums, placing them on the table before going to grab some water and spoons.

"Aye, I think I will." He watches her from beneath his lashes, slouched in his chair. As soon as he finishes eating, she's taking him straight to bed. She returns to the table, placing a spoon in each of their bowls and setting down the water.

They eat in relative silence until Killian asked the question, "So how do you plan on getting my memories back, love?"

Of course he asks the one question she'd been hoping to put off until tomorrow. She swallows her food and takes a sip of water before answering.

"Well it involves magic…"He regards her for a moment before simply inquiring, "Are you a sorceress of some kind Swan?" There's no accusation in his tone, only simple curiosity.

As the product of true love, she does have magic but does that automatically make her some kind of sorceress or witch? She hadn't really thought about it before. And now as the bearer of the Dark One's power—something she hadn't spared a second thought since seeing Killian again—she doesn't know how to answer his question.

"I do have magic," she says instead. Her answer doesn't seem to surprise him.

After the dishes have been cleared away, Emma grabs Killian's warm, calloused hand and leads him back to her room. They walk in silence, basked in the moonlight shining in through the giant windows. It was at this time of night, when the rich colours of the castle's interior became dull and washed out in the moon's light that Emma usually felt the most uneasy. A ghostly sort of silence seemed to overtake the castle, broken only by the hoot of a nearby owl or the creaking of the floorboards and furniture—something one only seems to notice when alone at night.

It's at this time that Emma is left by herself, with no tasks to occupy her thoughts, only the encroaching darkness and her daydreams that sometimes cause more heartache than not. Now however, with Killian at her side, she feels almost peaceful.

"And here we are." They've stopped just inside Emma's room where Killian now stands uncertainly, eyeing the huge bed with the crumpled covers and evident head crease on one of the pillows. His eyes then drift to a small velvet chaise in the corner of the room before he turns his sleepy gaze to Emma.

"This will do quite nicely Swan, thank-you." His tone is grateful but she can see the barely concealed disappointment in his eyes before he heads over to the small chaise.

It takes her a moment to process what's going on. "Killian wha—oh, oh, no"—she has to cover her mouth to stifle her laugh—"I wouldn't make you sleep on that tiny thing. Plus I know you're exhausted and really sore so…" She motions to the bed.

He stands there for a moment, a blush rising to his cheeks before scratching behind his ear and saying, "Forgive me milady, or um Swan, but is that not where you regularly sleep?"

Emma smirks at him, taking way too much pleasure in his discomfort. Something she decides has nothing to do with her becoming dark and everything to do with her being turned on. Killian just has that effect on her, cursed or not.

"It is," she responds, "but now it's your spot too."

Even from across the room, she notices his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows. He clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, making a commendable effort to sound unaffected as he quietly says, "very well."

He walks over to the side of the bed opposite her flattened pillow, the side that clearly gets less use and sits down before pulling off his boots. Once he's placed them on the floor, he looks down at his leather pants, reaches to pull them down, but then stops himself. Emma, who had been unabashedly staring, teasingly asks, "Do you need any help taking those off?" She turns to shut the door and when she turns back around Killian is looking anywhere but at her face.

"As you can imagine love, leather is not the most comfortable material to sleep in, and I would take them off but…um," he hesitates before finally confessing, "It seems I'm not wearing anything underneath." He pauses, eyes averted, scratching at his ear once again before rambling off in a rush. "Which is odd because, um, I don't normally do that, or at least I don't think I do…uh, do you suppose there's something in that wardrobe I could wear instead, love?

Killian was certainly not anticipating Emma's response.

"I knew it!" She squealed excitedly. "I always had a feeling you liked going commando under all of that leather." She says that last bit mostly to herself.

Killian, who is now smiling slightly, despite his embarrassment, seems at a loss for words. Even if he's unfamiliar with the term, "going commando," he can put two and two together. His tone is amused when he finally asks, "Do you make a habit of guessing what is and is not under a man's clothing Swan?"

Emma isn't sure he can handle much more of her teasing at the moment and they both need to get some rest, but he asked for it. She walks closer to the bed, pretending to be interested in her nails, stopping just before she walks into his knees and then glances down at him. He meets her eyes, his expression somehow hesitant and daring at the same time.

"No, only yours."

It comes out much breathier than predicated and she pivots on the spot—just after watching Killian's eyes darken considerably—and walks away because holy hell she's winding them both up and she needs to stop and it seems he isn't the only one who can't handle it.

She swings open the wardrobe doors and shifts through its contents. "Let's see here, there should be something in here suitable for sleeping in, for both of us…" She rummages through the men's pants and finds a pair with soft, thin fabric that appear to be quite baggy. They look like what might be considered this realms version of sweatpants.

"Here," she tosses them at Killian and he catches them easily. _Your muscle memory is showing,_ Emma thinks smugly, glad he isn't completely clumsy.

"Hmm, I can't seem to find another pair like that one, I guess I can just sleep in what I'm wearing now…"she trails off, talking to herself.

Killian wanders over to her, now wearing the pants she just gave him, which hang low on his hips. Not to mention he's now shirtless and she finds herself forgetting what it was she was looking for…

"Have you misplaced the pair you usually use, love? Would you like me to help you look for them?" His soft voice is full of gentlemanly concern and she realizes again that he's actually the sweetest man she's ever met. Despite his exhaustion he'd probably stay up all night looking.

She doesn't think before she says," Actually, I normally sleep naked."

As the last word leaves her mouth, she realizes her mistake. Definitely not the best thing to say when she's trying to avoid winding them both up again. Two people with almost obscene sexual tension, who are about to share a bed. She risks a sideways glance at Killian whose eyes are practically flaming with heat. And so are his cheeks, naturally.

She doesn't know what else to do so she turns back to the wardrobe and resumes her search. She can still feel his eyes on her before he awkwardly excuses himself, running his fingers through his dark brown hair. After about a minute of searching, she finds another pair of the same style pants and walks behind the wardrobe door to slip them on. The blouse she's wearing is plenty comfy, so she grabs another clean one just like it and puts that on as well.

When she returns to bed, Killian appears to have already made himself comfortable, bundled in the warm blankets on his side of the mattress. His hair is ruffled, his eyes are drooping and he's now sporting a tired, timid smile. She tucks herself in, puts one arm under her pillow and extends the other one towards Killian, reaching for his hand. She smiles back as they entwine their fingers together and rest their hands on the empty expanse of mattress between them.

"Goodnight Killian," she whispers.

"Goodnight Emma," he whispers back reverently, before his eyes close completely.


End file.
